


The Prelude to Tragedy

by yakamoz



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/strange fake
Genre: Agender Character, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Other, Past Lives, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3538691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakamoz/pseuds/yakamoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An imagining of when Ishtar arrives in Uruk to demand Gilgamesh's hand in marriage and the confrontation that ensues between three characters, which serve as a prelude to the tragedy of Gilgamesh's punishment at the hands of the Mesopotamian pantheon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prelude to Tragedy

A strange presence in the skies had citizens of Uruk suffocating slowly, painfully, of unknown origin to the common man, and hung over the golden city. Almost as if the air weighed stones and sank heavy in their lungs – what it was though, they could not possible decipher.

An otherworldly body was already present in the city, had been for a number of years now, but they were not the cause for this dead air that halted people in their step and children sitting on their legs, short of breath. Enkidu raised their head from the perch they watched the city from, taking in the people’s struggle where they kneeled on a tower’s roof.

They weren’t periodically any more than a bystander, eyes more than hands and feet to act with, but it was voluntary. Enkidu did not act as Gilgamesh had never bid them, and he had yet to do a blasphemy to suggest a difference in their stance. But this – it was a situation that surpassed their position, and—

Their power.

The awareness of their own lack of strength was a distant emotion until now, but it sprang fresh and bitter in their mouth, in their throat as they willingly breathed, filling their inhuman lungs with the laden air.

It was a good question to ask – what could possibly make the puppet of the divine feel weakness?

Only the divine themselves.

Their exhale felt just barely cleansing, dissipating through the barely-there haze around them up higher and becoming nothing. An apt metaphor if they let their mind wander there.

Finally, Enkidu looked away from the city and towards the horizon. The city was dulled and felt dead to their senses, though they still lived. The approaching herd of bull-driven chariots appeared in the distance, cutting through the sky and heading straight to the temple itself.

They counted three—no, four chariots, with one more following behind the leading one. Only one person stood on it and it was hard to mistake it as anything but a goddess, even at this distance. Enkidu allowed their eyes to strain and fought the dread wanting to twist in their belly.

Wind picked up around them, beginning a steady haunt in their ears until it was howling, the bulls bellowing as they stampeded towards the temple and Enkidu at a wild speed. It took them a moment but then saw it, the face of the goddess coming to see Gilgamesh. By humanity’s standards, she was truly stunning, even her hair possessing an inhuman grace as it whipped behind her.

Enkidu stood their ground, in a very human stubbornness they did not often show. The air pushed harder, as if trying to make them bend but they refused. Fingers dug into the limestone and knees pressed into the perch, but they did not budge an inch. If a bit of wind was the only thing a goddess would be willing to send to emphasize their grand arrival then they might have considered today a good day, not inclusive of the dreadful atmosphere.

They couldn’t see the people any longer, too much dust and stray foliage whirling around the three chariots that were finally slowing and descending on ground behind the entrance to the temple, landing in the open space.

Enkidu kept watch from where they sat, fixed upon the beautiful face of a celestial body stepping down from her chariot, but they felt no admiration. It was as if he was watching a snake, with all the grace and poise of one, as well as the malicious advance to go with it.

Their thoughts must not have been as transparent as they had hoped, and bright red eyes cut through the very temple and stopped on Enkidu.

They froze, stopped breathing though they never had any real use for it and kept their fingers tense inside the limestone. Cornered as they felt, they didn’t avert their eyes, showing their observance freely now that they were caught.

The look returned was cold, cruel and her smile cut through her face as though drawn out with a blade. The contempt came through just as clear, but less one would have for a rival and more to one that she considered a bug.

However, she looked away soon enough, most likely not finding Enkidu worth any further grace by her eyes, and began walking towards the temple doors. Only guards and servants greeted her, and the offense was deep enough that it stung at Enkidu even from their distance above.

Gilgamesh had not deigned to acknowledge her arrival.

Their reason was so sorely cautioning their own body not to follow over the roofs of the temple, knowing it to be risky should it turn into a mistake that could put their king in danger, but their feet moved, propelling them to jump over each step until they arrived at the terrace. Slipping through the arch they hopped onto a beam furthest in the throne room, furthest from where Gilgamesh sat.

As expected, he noticed Enkidu but spared no more than a glance, making a dismissive motion with his hand to the servants that had brought him his food. “Take these as well,” he added, uncaring.

Enkidu remained where they were, hands resting between their toes where they knelt, ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

Ishtar’s steps were heavy, the power in her very existence permeating through the temple as she approached the throne room on her own feet. Whether it was for effect or to prolong her entrance or make Gilgamesh wait for her, Enkidu wasn’t sure – as far as they were concerned it may have as well been both.

Minutes dragged themselves onto each other, and just when Gilgamesh began to show outward signs of impatience, the doors swung open. Slowly, deliberately, Ishtar walked in, her inhuman servants following her step. Her air of importance rivalled that of Gilgamesh himself, a comparison Enkidu wasn't about to comment on regardless of their urge to.

She stopped at the steps leading to the throne and her hand rose up, giving silent orders for her handlers to remain where they were, then she continued to walk up the stairs, not caring to even offer the grace of waiting for Gilgamesh to summon her in words.

“Why, I must confess I’m somewhat wounded, O’ King of Heroes,” she said, the smile of the snake having woven into her voice perfectly.

Gilgamesh sat forward, elbows resting on his knees as he regarded her over his nose, clearly forcing in as much condescendence into his voice as he could. “And what would I have had offered to an uninvited guest, having come to me in all your haughtiness, Ishtar.” He said it with every intention to offend, and Enkidu held their breath.

To their surprise, she didn’t seem to acknowledge him, but her annoyance with his disrespect was clear when her next comment was, “A god hardly needs an invite to step onto the earth that is theirs.”

He did not dignify that with a response, but leaned back into his throne once more, waiting for her to walk up to him. Enkidu couldn’t see her face any more, but Gilgamesh’s eyes had frozen over, a chilled red of murderous rage.

“What have you come to my garden for, woman?”

Ishtar’s hand rose to touch – presumably – her own lips, or her own chin. Some arrogantly seductive gesture. Gilgamesh did it well enough when he was in the mood to. Guessing on Enkidu’s part was easy.

“I’ve come for you, dearest King,” she said, “You will wed me. Rejoice.”

Enkidu felt there were better ways of letting her down easy, and none included a loud snort from his nose and the laugh that followed.

“What a surprise, Ishtar. I knew you not for a jester.” Not that either.

There was a crack in the throne room. Enkidu tensed, eyes wide as they crouched even lower, ready to spring down. Gilgamesh had not moved, save for the slight tilt of his head to the side but Ishtar’s hand was outstretched and silence settled, heavy and dangerous. Instinct told Enkidu to flee but it had been a long time since they listened to instinct where Gilgamesh was concerned.

“You rest one foot on this floor, _whore-shifter_ , and I will make sure no amount of favour from this king will serve to allow you any mercy for meddling in our affairs," Ishtar snarled, turning her body halfway to point at them with every intention to fulfill her threat. No longer was she beautiful. Instead, her face had twisted with the outstanding volume of her offense — ugly, serpentine. _Enraged._

Well, that made it simpler.

Enkidu leaned back, building momentum before they sprung, the topside of the beam where they had been perched upon left crumbling. The recoil was strong enough to propel their body through the air in an arc, but this body they had was strong enough to twist under the force of their pounce and they landed—

On top of the throne, fingertips curled above his head and denting the golden backrest. Their toes pressed against the top rail, the sharp edge helping them keep balance. They had flipped upside down and remained poised to use the throne itself a jumping point, but held back by a remaining fraction of restraint. Little was left of it.

What boiled in Enkidu’s chest was hatred, and recognizing it went against every principle they had adopted when they had accepted humanity.

A wild beast was above the king of Uruk, too-ready to spring into its own death whilst staring it straight in the eye without fear, and Ishtar responded with her own fury.

“You— How _dare_ you?!” she screeched, face aflame at her serving beasts hurrying to her side seconds, _seconds_ later than this worthless shape-stealing clod of _mud_. “You would dare to— Why you wretch!”

“I did not rest even a toe on the ground, goddess.”

She rather resembled a serpent now as well – with the way she was spitting. “Don’t get _smart_ with me-!”

“You have harmed my king, and I shall not sit idly by to watch you continue.” Their voice was still so serene, so very controlled and tempered.

She was being made a fool of.

On noticing, Ishtar turned to Gilgamesh, who had leaned back and allowed the shade of Enkidu’s body over his head to darken the sneer on his face. It remained bright and mocking even behind the thin strands of hair that became as a veil between the goddess and the king.

“I’ll allow this one err on your part, witch, but you will leave before I rise from my throne,” the great king said, bringing his hand up to rub a lock of bright hair between his fingers, “I have no intention of marrying at all, but if I should feel I must, a snake is still only the creature I shall only step upon and never look to for an honour so high.”

Enkidu really, _honestly_ wanted to tell him to shut his mouth. They weren't known for their political stick-jabbing, but Gilgamesh was about to lose this balancing act.

To their surprise, however, Ishtar lowered her hand. Following it, was a chill that filled the room and Enkidu began to feel a foreboding sense of danger.

“You will regret those words, O’ King,” she hissed through her teeth. “For this mortal mistake, I will see you and your filthy mutt punished."

She did not smile down at him any longer.

"You will lose all you have for this insult, insolent King.”

Enkidu spared a brief glance down to Gilgamesh and— _Ah, now he no longer sneers back at her either._

“Everything on this earth belongs to me. It matters nothing of whom attempts to lay their hands on it,” said Gilgamesh, but refused to move from behind the drapery of Enkidu’s hair, nor did he release the lock between his fingers.

Ishtar’s smile returned as if belated, tight-lipped even as she spoke, though stony and hateful it was. “Then, I will take what does not belong to you.” She looked up, and her eyes locked to Enkidu.

“You will not keep what was never made to belong to you, arrogant King.”

She turned, her servers hurrying after her as she walked out of the throne room, slowly, making every step last longer in a vengeful oath.

This time, as she left Uruk, her feet were light.

* * *

 “You should not have done that.”

“Done what?”

The attempt for cute had Enkidu itching to punch him square in the face, with his head tilted back to look back up at them and a rogue smirk was plastered on his lips that stayed childish and unconcerned.

“I shouldn’t need to recite every single wrong prod at her back to you; I’m sure you’re well aware of your own game.”

“Calling it a game makes it sound rather simple, why not say I’m testing my own luck, if you want to belittle the risk.” So then he was aware. There was a gentle tug on Enkidu's hair.

They really shouldn't. The last thing he needed was to be indulged for what he had done.

But then, the temptation was a bit too strong after Ishtar’s departure. Against their better judgement on spoiling Gilgamesh, they relaxed their toes and let their feet slowly push off the wall, doming their body backwards to slowly ease into his lap.

“No, because I still cannot understand why on earth you would _want_ to test your luck for,” they responded calmly once settled, feet hanging over the arm of the throne and their head on Gilgamesh’s shoulder.

He did not respond for a long while, only played with Enkidu’s hair. He stranded it around his fingers, curling and twisting without applying any pull, just playing in an absent-minded care. Enkidu's eyes lidded, surrounded with the familiar warmth of him.

“I did not want to humour a snake.”

“Not good enough, Sire,” Enkidu murmured through sleep-heavy lips, “Try once more, please.”

Gilgamesh fairly pouted at the dismissal of his reason, brows knit in what other may have perceived as annoyance. Petulance, from where Enkidu saw it. “To clarify, I did not want to wed a cruel, faithless devil.” He leaned over their head and weaved his fingers deeper in their hair to pull it back so they would look up to him. “You try terribly to make it seem that I’ve responded wrongly. I simply said the truth.”

That earned him a whipping smack on his wrist. “It’s not that you were honest, nor that you were correct, Gilgamesh.” They still yielded and tilted their face towards him when his hand loosened. “You’re well aware you were not appropriate. You could have simply refused her a few times before she bore of you, but you chose to insult her in every which way, in specific detail. It almost seems as though you have no sense for consequence.”

Gilgamesh permitted the glossing over to the slap on his hand and leaned back on the throne, Enkidu following limply. “Not so. Besides,” he continued with nary a trace of worry in his voice, “It matters not what she threatens me with. There is only one being capable of rivalling me on this earth, and they are mine to have as a comrade, and a friend. What she throws at my feet will make for good feasting, and I fear nothing from any battle.”

Enkidu listened, of course. Their grasp of him was solid, but moments like this cemented certainty in steel under their skin and assured them. A simple comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

“Then, we mustn't have regrets.”

**Author's Note:**

> I figured I may as well post this. Some notes on my depiction and.. disclaimers I guess??
> 
> I go by the canon of Enkidu having "no gender", which has been clearly stated in both fate/strange fake novels: prototype and the official first volume.  
> I do attribute this to their physical body as well, since they're made of clay, my headcanon and understanding is that their body is perfectly neutral in their default state - no breasts, no vagina, no penis, no marking sex. Given they're a shifter, however, I may choose to depict them with sexual bits if my writing includes explicit physical intimacy, at Enkidu's own whim. However, I will always use neutral (they/them) pronouns for them.
> 
> And also, slurs/insults that appear in my works do not reflect my own personal use of them and will always be used in consideration to the specific character's personality and behaviour.
> 
> This fic has established!Gilkidu in their unique, "my precious, only friend" way, though they are physically intimate and are considered lovers in universe.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys like this! More Gilkidu to come, hopefully.


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